The End
by Lils Evans
Summary: How it all ends. Oneshot.


A/N: So, after reading the fifth book, I kinda thought...hmm...and if this were to end now, how would it happen? Well, it actually didn't start that clearly...I actually just sat down and started typing...in the beginning, I was actually thinking about making this a longer fanfic, more than just this one-shot. Funny how things end up, huh?

* * *

The End

Artemis Fowl had never been so relieved to see Ireland. After all, he had been absent for nearly three years, and only from the island, but also from anywhere else on the planet earth. He had no recollection of time that had passed, because he had not lived it. Only two days ago he had leapt from a window in Taipei, and fallen headfirst into a nightmare.

Emotion stung at his eyes, and he quickly refocused his attention at the window. The truck was barreling down the highway at high-speeds, and evening was just setting in. The Irish countryside and slowly setting sun brought into him some strength, but no feeling of homecoming euphoria was strong enough to disperse the fear that pounded through him. Artemis had never felt this nervous. Not even when he was awaiting a particularly weighty test grade back when he was younger, and not as sure about quantum theorems as he was now—nothing compared. In fact, he was almost certain nothing _could_ compare to returning home after three years, with no explanation as to what happened other than a tale that started and ended in magic.

Butler, Artemis's manservant, maneuvered the truck off of the main highway and made a beeline for Fowl Manor. Butler had spent some time in front of a mirror, and was once again cleanly shaven, his face and head. He was not in his usual suit, for, as Artemis had noticed, he had put on some weight after spending three years out of the job. He would need to obtain new business attire.

Artemis, on more or less the same hand, had also packed his suit instead of wearing it, due to extensive stains that would have to be properly dry-cleaned. Instead, he donned a pair of khaki pants and a casual t-shirt. Although, if presented with a choice, he would much rather have been in a suit. Now he felt awkward and uncomfortable, his unease accompanied by the strange glances Butler was giving him through the rearview mirror.

"Butler," he said after catching the manservant's eyes for the fifth time. "You do believe it is me, don't you?"

"Of course I do, Artemis," Butler replied, and turned his eyes back on the road. He chuckled.

"What?" Artemis demanded.

"Saying your name," he said, and then met his charge's eyes in the mirror once again. A change had come over them, and they were more familiar than ever. "I had been missing it."

In the passenger seat, Holly Short came instantly into view. She was sitting tall in her modified Section Eight suit. Like Artemis, she had also fallen three years behind without aging a day, and she was enjoying the three-year technology advance. Her suit was sleek, a sort of green-black, and in situations where the wearer did not have enough magic to support a shield, it adapted chameleon abilities that would hold for up to five hours. It wasn't perfect camouflage, but it could change fast and compensate for almost every color, except for certain shades of pink. Of course there were other modifications, but she had not stuck around to hear them. Events had been too pressing, and she hadn't felt like catching up with Foaly. Three years for him would take around ten to talk about, she had guessed.

Holly looked up at Butler and punched his arm.

"What?" she scoffed. "_That_ Mud Boy?"

"You too, Holly," Butler laughed, and then frowned at his arm. "I'd forgotten how much that really does hurt."

"Don't tell me you got soft out there, Butler," Holly joked.

"Lucky you didn't see it," he said, "but I had a few gray hairs."

_And fiction_, thought Artemis, remembering the collection of books he had examined in the dusty shack along the shore.

As the road drew closer to the Manor, Artemis's nerves increased. Too keep his mind off things he decided to talk.

"So, Holly," he said. "Interesting new suit. I am sure it must have some astounding capabilities."

The former LEP Captain turned in her seat, fitting her head under the seatbelt.

"Just to set things straight, Artemis, you'll not be getting this or any other new Section Eight technology, so you can just forget it and be happy with your puny, outdated LEP equipment."

"Ouch," said Artemis.

"Second, that is the eleventh time you've said something impulsive and distracting." Her eyes glinted. One blue, one hazel, the blue belonging to Artemis. "You're scared," she said. "It'll be okay."

Artemis grew instinctively annoyed after being called scared. A frown shadowed his face. Holly noticed, and slapped him on the leg. "Don't even _think _about telling me I'm wrong, Artemis," she scorned.

"This is different that what is categorized as 'fear'," he said, and looked curiously into his own eye, wondering if somehow belonging to Holly made it look different. He had always taken pride in his ability to make his expression harden into ice, and his eyes had always played an important part in that. But now, under Holly's control, the blue seemed more alive. He was seeing what he must look like when he smiled, which was probably a seldom sight. It was pleasant. Was he actually pleasant when he smiled?

"Categorizing has nothing to do with it," said Holly sadly. Both she and Artemis knew that what they were feeling was too outside the box of perception to be put into plain words. If Artemis had been asked a week ago to describe what a person in a similar situation might feel like, he would have gone straight for information covering coma patients, specifically those that had woken up several years after they had fallen in to their coma state. A week ago, comparing these two situations would seem like a good idea, there really was no link. A coma victim did not experience being sucked through a dimension rift and dropped off on a demon island that existed in limbo. They did not have to fight for their lives, see their friends die, or gain the power of magic.

Artemis, of course, had been careful to tell Butler that Holly was under the impression his magical capabilities were gone, and had explained that it was probably better to keep it that way. He had not, however, wanted to retell the death and resurrection of the fairy in the passenger seat of the truck. Neither he, nor Holly had mentioned it to anyone. It had never happened. In fact, Butler knew almost nothing about the entire adventure, as Artemis would never respond, not even when pressingly questioned. He found he could not communicate what had happened to him. Not only that, but he realized he did not want to.

He gazed out of the window. The truck pulled up the driveway and stopped in front of the walkway to the front doors. Butler turned the key and the engine shut off. The interior fell suddenly silent. The shadow of Fowl Manor loomed overhead, and the steel reinforced doors stood shut, where as some time ago they had been torn apart by a particularly irritated troll.

For the first time, it finally felt to Artemis that he had truly been gone three years. The full weight of separation and loss of time hit him hard, settling on his chest as if a stone warlock was squatting there. He examined the yard. There were flowers. Mother had probably planted flowers, which was odd. She had never been the type to toil in gardens, unless grief beyond the reaches of her mind had gnawed at her. Fear that she had lost her mind again tugged at him.

Butler looked back at Artemis through the rear view mirror. The teenager was staring out at nothing, his hand resting only inches away from the door handle. Unlike in years before, emotion could be detected on the surface, and confusion and uncertainty troubled his appearance. After only looking at pictures for three years, Butler was reminded of Artemis's features, and even refreshed by them.

_He looks like his father_, he thought. And the young Fowl did, if not a bit thin. And then: _He makes a rather stunted eighteen-year-old_.

"Artemis," said Holly softly. "Are you ready?"

Artemis did not respond. For a moment, a stillness he had felt only in one place before came over him, and his feeling of detachment was greater than ever. He felt a planet's distance away from the house standing only a few yards from him.

"You know the time parameters," she continued. "And you gave everyone permission, right?" Holly unbuckled her seatbelt and crawled into the back seat. She took Artemis's shoulder. "You'll do fine," she said, and then reached over and opened the car door for him. She vanished from sight, but her voice still lingered as she went out onto the lawn. "It'll be okay."

It only took a few seconds for her presence to leave the truck. Artemis watched as tiny footprints appeared on the grass. The open door let the wind in, and he breathed deeply, smelling rain.

"Butler," he said.

"Yes?"

"I want you to know. I stood on the moon."

The manservant seemed startled for only a few moments before smiling. "I believe it," he said.

"I'm not exactly sure what part of the world I was seeing," the boy continued, "it went by too quickly…but you should have seen how blue it was."

"Maybe I'll see it someday," said Butler gently.

"And the atmospheric levels, and the clouds. I think there was a storm somewhere."

"It must have been spectacular."

"It was."

Artemis closed his eye and Holly's. His eyes…no. His new eye along with the old one. They were both his now, he figured, but he could never say it that way. One would always be Holly's.

"I am ready," he said.

"Alright, Artemis. Let's go."

Artemis stepped out from the truck, and closed the door behind him. For a moment, he was worried that his legs might not be able to take him from the driveway to the front door. Butler came behind him and paused, waiting for his charge to take the first step. Artemis lifted his foot and walked forward, towards the steps. He made it up them and paused in the doorway. Butler raised one of his massive fists and knocked, leaving no time for hesitation. The plan had to be executed, and they could not stop now.

Artemis heard, "Coming!" issued from inside the house, and recognized it instantly as his mother's voice. Her footsteps approached quickly, and soon Artemis was aware that her hand was on the doorknob, turning it slowly.

"Butler!" he said suddenly. "What are their names?"

"Haley," the manservant replied. "Haley and James."

"Haley…Ja—"

The door was pulled open, and Mrs. Fowl was revealed in the doorway. She was wearing a long brown skirt and decorated top. Her hair was let loose about her shoulders. For a moment, her face was like that of a doll, a rosy-cheeked piece of porcelain with a poised smile and bright eyes. The second those eyes fell upon the ones in her entryway; however, they seemed to undergo some violent change. A bolt of electricity passed across her face, and she stumbled back as one stricken.

"Angeline," said Butler calmly. He reached out one very large arm and set it against the door before she had a chance to close it. This was unnecessary. Angeline Fowl was too stunned to move, and her eyes never left the battered-looking teenage boy standing on her doorstep. At once her heart sprang to the memory of her eldest son, Artemis the Second. It was cruel how much this boy resembled him…or perhaps…he _was_ her little Arty?

_Surely, _she thought, _surely I must be dreaming. Why is my mind so cruel? Wake up!_

"Angeline," said Butler again. "Can we come in?"

"Of, of course," she stammered, but she did not move from her place in the doorway. Butler raised his eyebrows.

"Mrs. Fowl—"

"Mother," said Artemis from beneath Butler's arm. "I'm back."

Upon hearing the teenager's voice, Angeline Fowl burst silently into tears. A shaking hand went up to cover her mouth, and her shoulders drooped. She shook her head and stared at the two in front of her.

"Mother," pleaded Artemis. Tears sprung to his eyes and he wanted to run forward to her, but he forced himself to stay, concentrating all of his energy on that one effort. Words, however, had become beyond his control. "It's me," he said. He could not stand the way his mother was staring at him. It brought him back to the helpless time when she would look at him and not know him, hiding away in the darkness of her room. _"And stop calling me Mother. I don't know who you are, but you're certainly not my little Arty_."

"Angeline," coaxed Butler. "Please let us in. We have a lot to talk about, and we can't do it standing out here."

"Angeline?" came another voice from the inside. As Mrs. Fowl turned around, Butler took Artemis by the arm and hauled him inside. He shut the door behind them.

Artemis looked down at his feet and directed his frustration at the floor. Only a week ago he had been home by his own reckoning, and, if not for the first time, he felt angered with himself. Three years was a long time, no matter what Foaly or Qwuan said. How could he have been so off? He thought he had his time spot on, but he had been wrong.

Mr. Fowl entered the foyer, looking concerned. His face blanched when he saw the state of his wife, and his eyes grew even more suspicious when he spotted Butler.

"Butler," he said. "What's going on?" Then he paused, stopped dead in his tracks. He saw Artemis—his lost son—and froze.

"Father," said Artemis slowly, unsure of his words.

"Artemis?" Mr. Fowl gasped in amazement. Then he muttered, "But…three years!"

"Yes," said Artemis. "I know it has been a long time…but you must understand, I…" he faltered. His father drew closer to him, holding his head slightly sideways, his brows drawn close.

"You sound like my Arty," he said with a painful smile, as if he were afraid to assume that his son was really back. Artemis understood his hesitation, but it was agonizing all the same. "Always so formal…heh…ha!"

It took Artemis a second to process what was happening. His father was laughing, his eyes glistening. He came forward and took his son in his arms, sizing him up. "You haven't gotten any taller!" he exclaimed.

"No, Father," Artemis replied.

"And you…it's been three years! You still look the same—but wait." He squinted at his son's face. "Your eye!" he gasped. "One of them is brown! What happened?" Suddenly Artemis Fowl Senior's smile changed, and tears flowed freely from his eyes. He stood his son up, holding him out with his hands on his shoulders. Artemis accepted the weight, although his knees felt weak.

"Technically, Father," he said, their faces close. "It's not mine."

Artemis Fowl Sr. laughed again. "Of course it's not!" he said. "Oh, Arty, I knew you would have something like that to say when you got back. The stories your Butler has been telling us…I think I'm really beginning to believe them!"

Artemis, not able to contain himself to one spot for any longer, stepped into his father's arms. Smothered in the embrace, Artemis let the tears go. He was sorry he ever left to chase fairies. He was sorry he was so formal, and he was sorry for causing his mother and father so much pain, even though he only knew little more than a week's disconnection.

"Arty?" said Angeline cautiously. She approached the father and son, and was pulled into the embrace. Artemis's father held her tightly while she racked with silent sobs. "Where have you been, my darling?" she asked her son, stroking back Artemis's hair.

Eventually, the circle broke apart, and Artemis found he was faced with both parents, with Butler more or less a neutral player in the action, standing off to the side. He was alone and he knew it, and time was passing him by.

"Mother, Father," he said. "You might want to sit down. The living room?"

Artemis turned and led the way. Behind him he heard his mother whisper, "Shouldn't we make calls? The police? The Missing Persons Agency?"

"No, no calls," he assured her over his shoulder. "Just…allow me to explain."

The Fowls made their way into the living room, where Mr. and Mrs. Fowl sat on the couch, Angeline dabbing her eyes furiously with a Kleenex that did not seem to be doing much good.

"All right, Arty," said Artemis's father. "We're all yours."

Artemis began by explaining what had really happened to his father. He explained how the _Fowl Star_ had been shot down with a stolen missile, and how he had given up on his father to face the fairies head-on. He told them about the unfortunate circumstances of his meeting with Captain Holly Short, Commander Root, Foaly, Mulch, and a troll, and how his first encounter with the fairies had made him the People's number one enemy.

He then went on through the years, ticking off adventures on his fingers and explaining them as briefly as possible to his parents, who never spoke or interrupted.

When he came to the fiasco three years ago, his mother's eyes wetted with tears once again.

"You see," he concluded. "It has only been two days…nearly three…since I left. I was as shocked as you were to find that I had miscalculated the time difference to such a degree. I am sorry for…for everything."

The living room went silent. Artemis's father's expression was hard and far away, and his mother sat with her hand clamped over her mouth, tears spilling down her cheeks. After a while, Artemis Fowl Sr. stirred, and looked at his son with knowledge behind his gaze. Artemis was not sure how he felt under this new awareness, but accepted it. He had been lying for quite some time, and deserved to be punished for it.

"So…all that Butler's been telling us is true?" Artemis Fowl the First asked. "The LEP, fairies…elves…warlocks?"

"It is. I keep several copies of the Book of the People that started it all. They are in various storage places around the world, as well as in my room. If you'll recall, I recovered it when you were—"

"Gone. With the mafia."

"Yes."

Artemis Sr. leaned back and sighed. "And you…" His voice faded away.

"I know this is hard to believe," Artemis stated. "But I wanted to tell you." He quickly felt awkward under their bemused gaze, and lowered his attention to the corner of the room. Suddenly, Artemis's father slapped his knee.

"All this time and you didn't let me in on the fun, eh, Arty?" he said.

Artemis looked up, genuinely surprised.

"I—"

"Well, things are going to change around here, you know."

"I know," said Artemis, glancing down in a display of shame. He wondered if this was how it felt to be _grounded_ while checking his watch. His explanation had taken longer than he had thought. "Things really are going to change," he assured them, nodding. "But…while we still have time, can I see the twins?"

Angeline jumped up almost immediately, wiping the tears from her face.

"You want to see your siblings?" she asked, and smiled for the first time since she had opened the door. "Butler must have told you."

"Yes," said Artemis. "He did."

"Well, I bet they're excited to meet their big brother…no matter how peculiar he is." She said this with a grin and a tearful choke meant to be a laugh. She bade him to follow her upstairs into one of the guest rooms, where Artemis beheld two identical cribs, one with a blue blanket, and one with pink. The air of the room smelled of baby shampoo, and he also picked up the slight hint of squash, most likely from baby food. He walked slowly to the edge of the cribs and looked down first at James, treading carefully on the carpet as to not disturb the warm silence of the room.

"Hello, James," he said, and brought his finger close to the baby's face. To his alarm, his emotions triggered his magic, and blue sparks shot out close to his sibling's face. Shocked, he jerked his hand back, making a mental note to be more careful. He crossed the room to Haley's crib and smiled at her. She smiled back.

"Aren't they beautiful?" Angeline whispered. "Haley was born first, but not by much. You should have been—" She stopped herself and shook her head. "Sorry," she said.

"I regret missing their births as well, Mother. And don't be sorry…you're right." Artemis turned to look at her, and her eyes searched his. She was familiar with the blue, but even in that eye something had changed. Artemis made another apologetic gesture, and said quietly, "I _should_ have been there."

"Artemis, it's time," declared Butler from the doorway. Artemis Sr. looked at him curiously.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Not you, Father," said Artemis, stepping away from Haley's cradle. He looked at his parents. "Holly Short is downstairs," he told them. "Along with Foaly and several others like Ms. Short. I invited them in. They are downstairs now, actually, in the foyer. Would you like to meet them?"

"Actually, I think I would," said Mr. Fowl. He took his wife's hand and allowed Butler to lead the way back downstairs. Artemis paused in the doorway, his hand resting on the doorframe. He looked back at his siblings and wondered, just for a moment, if they would like him or not. This thought seemed to concern him greatly, although he had never before troubled over being accepted by his inferiors. Then he turned and followed his parents downstairs, where Holly Short was indeed waiting… waiting to do what had to be done.

* * *

Holly looked up through the balcony and saw the Fowls descending toward her in a solemn line, Artemis leading the way, with Butler just behind him, as he always was. Each step seemed to cause the teenager some pain, and his face was clouded and tear-stained. Holly felt her stomach lurch. 

Behind her, Foaly the centaur was taking his time in setting up a truly remarkable machine. He had found a spot for it on an antique table that obviously had some history to it. It was magnificently carved, with fragile legs that seemed to swirl and dip, fanning out at the bottom on four delicate pads. On the top of the table, initials of some famous dead guy were carefully and painstaking engraved. So, naturally, he had dented it in the initial set up. A table was a table. That was his philosophy, anyway.

Presently he trotted to Holly's side. The elf was standing near the stairs; her arms limp, looking especially small and surprisingly feminine. Not that she didn't look feminine all the time, but at least she wasn't waving a gun at somebody. She looked like a child standing in front of those stairs, and also like a friend who needed comforting.

"Holly," said Foaly gently.

"Hmm?"

"I just want you to know that—"

"Foaly! Is this the right kind?"

Foaly whinnied in frustration. He whipped his hide around and glared at the team of LEP officers that had been assigned to tag along. He didn't know why they couldn't have sent some Section Eight guys. Things would have been going a lot smoother. Now Foaly had to deal with three trainee sprites that couldn't keep their feet on the ground, and two completely worthless LEP elves that couldn't decide on which chair would be best for the job.

"Yes!" he snapped. "That's fine!" He glared at the officers who were pushing along a high-backed velvet chair from one of the hallways. "It's not like they're going to really _care_ what kind of chair they're sitting in when their minds are going to be wiped!"

"Hey," retorted one of the elves, puffing out his chest to show Foaly his special privileges acorn-pin. "I don't need any mouth from you, centaur. I hear you got kicked out of the LEP. You're working in some old garage-building now, aren't you?" The elf got his buddies to snicker. The sprites beat their wings. Foaly rolled his eyes.

"Oh, no. You've got me all figured out, _elf_. Yeah, I'm a failure. It's why they put me in charge of you. Because you know, all the biggest failures are in charge of the most important operations. Oh, wait…that can't be right, can it? Hmm. Guess you're wrong."

From behind the elf there came a snickering. No1 and Qwuan appeared together from around the corner, waving energetically at the centaur.

Foaly grinned smugly to himself and turned back around. Holly's shoulders went up, and she sighed, blowing all of the air slowly out of her lungs. The Fowls were on the last of the stairs.

"It'll be okay, Holly," said the centaur.

"Yeah, I hope so."

Artemis stepped down from the carpeted stair onto the floor and faced Holly, Foaly, and the team behind them. His mother clung to her husband, and stared down at Holly with wide and mystified eyes.

"Mother, Father," said Artemis, gesturing to Holly. "This is Holly Short, the elf I told you about."

"Nice to meet you," said Holly.

"It's odd…" said Artemis's father suddenly. He gazed intensely at Holly for several long seconds. "I feel I know you."

"You did," she told him. "Once. But only for a short while when we were getting you out of Russia."

He smiled, and nodded. Holly was struck by how much Artemis resembled his Father upon seeing the two standing side by side.

"Yes. Arty's told us that story."

Beside Holly, Foaly was getting impatient. He stamped his hooves. Angeline jumped.

"Mother, this is Foaly," said Artemis calmly. "The centaur."

"Hi, how are you?" said Foaly, and then he cast Artemis a dark look. "How many times have I told you? I'm not '_the centaur_'. There are other centaurs out there, you know. I'm not _the_ only one."

"Sorry," Artemis remedied with haste.

Holly cleared her throat, and felt her entire body tense. She sensed something from Artemis's expression, something that evoked sadness inside of her that she did not understand. Perhaps she was feeling his sadness.

"Artemis!" cried No1 as he came waddling as fast as he could toward the stairs.

"No1," greeted Artemis, and introduced the young warlock to his parents.

"Mr. and Mrs. Fowl," said Qwuan as he approached. "You have a very powerful mind on your hands."

"So we've realized," Artemis Fowl Senior replied, placing a hand on his son's shoulder.

"Well," said Angeline slowly. "Is that everyone?"

"Yes, it is." Artemis turned to face his parents. "But now…you must understand. All that I have told you, you were never supposed to know. Information about the People is too dangerous to have, for humans and for the fairies. I should not have told you any of it, and I would not have, save for my curiousness to how you would react." He paused, and nearly faltered, but with a short breath he began again. "Now my curiosity is satisfied, and I know now that if the need should ever arise, I might tell you the truth again. Your reactions were what I had hoped for…but as for the truth…actually I hope I will never have to tell you. I have done terrible things. Things I am not proud of."

Holly dropped her gaze to the floor to hide the tears that began to spill down her cheeks.

"Things," continued Artemis, "I do not want you to know I did…because I don't want you to think of me this way. I only want to be your son."

Sadness rattled through Holly once again. The tears came in greater numbers, raging a war down the sides of her face, and falling off the pointed tip of her nose. Artemis paused again, and the next time he spoke, his voice was coated with something all too familiar to Holly. She looked up with a start.

"_Now you are going to sit down in those chairs_," he said to his parents, his voice layered with _mesmer_.

"Artemis!" said Qwuan sharply, but the teenager paid him no mind and shut his eyes, concentrating on the magic.

"_Once you sit, you will stay there, and allow Foaly to perform the mind wipe_…_and you will believe every bit of it._"

Artemis came out of his magical stupor and turned to face Holly.

"I'm sorry I lied," he said, and then turned to his parents. "Mother, Father, will you please sit down?"

"In those chairs? Can we sit in those chairs?" asked Angeline excitedly.

"Yes, of course, Mother."

Angeline turned to her husband. "The chairs!" she said happily. "Let's go sit down so Foaly can perform the mind wipe…what ever that is."

Artemis stood back and watched his parents hurry toward the chairs. Holly approached him, frowning.

"That wasn't right," she said.

"It was the only way," he replied, and moved past her.

Through the windows the sun was setting in a dazzling display of colors through the clouds, which absorbed the light and turned from gray to deep pink and purple, all of them floating around the sun. They seemed to be following it, escaping the lonely darkness that was closing in; taking advantage of the retreating light. The large hall seemed to glitter as the hour set in, and Angeline Fowl and her husband settled down into their chairs.

Foaly and the LEP elves busily readied the subjects for the mind wipe, while the sprites hovered around in fascination of the method. In record time, the Fowls were hooked up to the mind wipe machine and ready to go. Data from their minds relayed across the screen to Foaly's advanced Section Eight laptop, and he was able to scan the data across seven chamber-files, making the process go seven times faster. In no time he was waiting with his finger above the Go Button.

"Artemis," said Artemis Fowl Senior from his chair, his eyelids fluttering under the weight of the lenses.

"Yes, Father?"

It seemed, like Artemis, Artemis Senior had a quick mind, and was fighting the _mesmer_ with everything he had.

"You don't have to…we still love you….despite everything—all of this."

Artemis frowned and gazed at his father's face.

"I know," he said. "But yes, I have to do this."

"Artemis…" called Holly, her voice distant.

"Foaly," said Artemis without looking at her. "Go."

The computer hummed.

"Disk!" Foaly demanded. Artemis reached slowly into his pocket and retrieved the alternate memory disk he had been working on the whole time in the car. He handed it over to the centaur, who popped the disk into the drive on the laptop. The humming escalated and the formula for memory along with the added variables flashed across the screen, attacking the old memories like a virus, devouring files that contained months of action and thought.

Artemis watched over Foaly's shoulder as his alternate memories flooded the system. He had been at boarding school for the past three years in England, and was currently undergoing a curious stunt in his growth due to lack of vegetables in his diet. Concerning his mysterious change in eye-color, he had reprogrammed memory to make it seem he had been born that way. The formula also targeted any memories concerning the twins, visual and emotional, but instead of destroying them, they were copied to be viewed later on a double-back usage as home videos.

Artemis did not move until the last of the files had been wiped away. He then looked to his parents, who were slumped over in their chairs, breathing peacefully. Through the silence, he sighed, and retrieved his disk.

"Well…" he began, but could not finish. Butler came to his side and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"It will be alright," he said. "It's over."

Holly, who had been watching Artemis from the other side of the room, caught something glinting in his eye and hers. She peeled herself away from the wall.

"Artemis?"

Artemis looked at her, and smiled.

"You're right, Holly," he said. "It's not exactly over."

"What?" said No1.

Butler looked down at his charge and frowned.

"What are you up to, Artemis?" he asked.

"You know I never give away my plots until the end," his charge replied, and crossed the room to Qwuan. "I want you to take it back," he told the old warlock, and then simply extended his hands.

Qwuan looked disappointed.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," said Artemis. "I don't want it. I won't need it."

Qwuan sighed.

"Alright," he agreed, and took Artemis's hands. "Give it back, then."

Artemis closed his eyes and was overwhelmed by Qwuan's power. He was instantly pulled in, and after a moment of confusion, found the inner part of Qwuan's mind to be particularly calm.

"_How do you do it?" _he asked. _"Even when I meditate, I can't seem to get my mind this clear_._" _

"_I'm a warlock, Artemis. My mind comes like this."_

"_How lucky you are." _

"_Concentrate now, Artemis. Empty it back into me. Transfer it along smoothly, and let it flow."_

Artemis concentrated. He found that in this empty space, his mind felt wide open. The magic came when he summoned it, and needed very little direction. Blue formed in front of his eyes and filled the space between his consciousness and that of the warlock's.

"_Give it a push,"_ Qwuan directed. Artemis focused on the blue, and pushed it away, letting it flow down a channel away from him and into Qwuan. To Artemis's alarm, the moment the blue faded, a chamber in his mind closed. _"That'll be it, then,"_ said Qwuan into the space. _"It's gone. Now let's go back."_

Artemis shrank back into his own mind. Weight returned to him and he found he was grounded, standing on the floor, holding the warlock's rough hands. He returned to full awareness and found he was back in Fowl Manor.

"Good boy," said Qwuan. "Thanks for that back."

"You are welcome."

"Artemis," said Holly, taking his arm. "What are you doing?"

Artemis attempted to smile. "I'm retiring, Holly. I've realized that three years is too long, and I am a brother now. I need to be here for my siblings and for my family. And…I don't want to remember what happened on Hybras."

Sorrow shot across Holly's face. Artemis still upheld his grin. "It never happened," he told her. "I really want to believe that, Holly."

"Disk!" Foaly called once again.

"What?" Holly looked back at Foaly in disbelief.

"I asked him not to tell you," explained Artemis as he reached into his pocket to retrieve yet another disk. This one was the disk he had created for himself. He tossed it across the room, and Foaly caught it, quickly inserting it into the computer.

"We're good to go," said Foaly after a few seconds.

"Thank you, Foaly," said Artemis.

"Hey, no problem, Mud Boy," replied the centaur. He gazed at the computer screen. "This is good stuff, Arty. You know…and I'm only telling you this because you won't remember…but, in some areas, I think I have a lot to learn compared to you."

"I know," Artemis replied, grinning. "And did you get that letter to Minerva?"

"Yes, I did. She understands, although I think she's none too happy about it."

Artemis nodded. "Send her my apologies, then." He then turned to Holly, whose head had fallen. He placed his hand under her chin and pulled her face up. Then he scanned her face, taking in every feature, and locking it somewhere far away. "You are my best friend, Holly," he told her.

"And you're mine," she replied, nearly choking on the lump in her throat.

"You saved me from becoming a monster."

"You _were_ pretty bad when I first met you, Fowl," she said, tears betraying her smile. "But I'm glad I could help."

"You've helped more than you know. But now I have to ask you something."

Holly nodded. "Anything," she said.

"The next time the People are in trouble," said Artemis with much difficulty, "don't come to me."

Holly's face fell. Artemis opened his mouth, but found there were no words. Realizing this, he stepped forward and embraced Holly Short. In turn, she wrapped her arms around the Mud Boy and sobbed. They remained interlocked for an unmeasured amount of time, human and fairy together.

When they finally broke apart, Holly took a deep breath.

"I promise," she said.

"Thank you," Artemis returned, and smiled, tears cascading down his face. He moved into a third chair and sat down, allowing the LEP elves to strap him to the machine.

"Artemis," said Holly, moments before the mind wipe was to commence.

"Yes?"

"Perhaps if the People and the humans are reunited…and there's no war…we'll find each other."

"If that happens, Holly, then I am sure we will." Artemis smiled at her one last time before nodding to Foaly.

The centaur pressed the key. Artemis's disk began to surge through his memories, destroying files and creating some in their place. Holly stood back, her hands at her sides, her heart broken.

Artemis was not aware of himself. He had some idea of his thoughts, if they could be called that, as they swirled, bodiless, through an unknown void. In it, he found comfort. For although most of his memories had been desecrated, he had been careful to keep one gigabyte alive. In it, was Holly's face. He knew that when he awoke, he would not understand to whom the face belonged to…but what was more important was the emotion he kept with it, and pure happiness would find its way to him every time the image was recalled.

There was also a second memory Artemis Fowl the Second reserved for himself. He would never know why, but every time someone questioned him about his eyes he would answer:

"Oh, one belongs to Holly."

The Beginning


End file.
